


Two Broken Souls Perched on the Edge

by kangelique



Series: Shelter in the Rain [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst and Feels, F/M, Gen, Heroes and Villians, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangelique/pseuds/kangelique
Summary: Emma is the lonely lost girl in the disguise of a hero, and in the eyes of the world she and Killian are not meant to be. But his touch is like the water, calming in every way that she needs when the rain falls and the storm brews.So what happens when he gets close enough to break down those walls and reveal their true identities?





	Two Broken Souls Perched on the Edge

**Two Broken Souls Perched on the Edge:**

 

Perched so high up like this, the ordinary people who made up the bustle and hustle of the familiar Boston evening streets were almost invisible to the human eye- not that she wasn't human. She looked the part, didn't she? But the ones she fought on a daily -the others,  _the villains_ as everyone in her agency had resorted to call them- would argue otherwise when they spoke of her with such vile tongue and recollection, as if she weren't really human at all with the way her eyes glowed a brilliantly blazing and menacing green whenever her magic unleashed, or when she'd fight and there was no mistaking the hot and fuming rise of a certain yellow light bubbling threateningly to the surface of a skin that should only have been boiling with blood. 

 

Emma couldn't really blame them though, could she? For the whispered taunts behind her back when she turned away from the cages they were trapped in, or for the slight fear, slight uncertainty that her agency itself reflected when she'd first been recruited and they couldn't decide whether or not she was 'Hero Worthy', or perhaps she just simply carried too much pain to ever fully embrace the good they kept saying she had to offer.

 

_Guess I beat you to it,_ she thought kind of glumly as she rolled her head up to the rather  _darker_ sky above her, focusing for a minute on the form of the clouds and trying to reign in her knowledge of what signs he'd taught her to look for when she wondered if a storm was coming. There wasn't much useful knowledge to go on unfortunately when all she could remember from that particular memory and time spent together as a result of him sneaking up on her at a place that was supposed to solely belong to her and her running thoughts, was the way his lips had moved when he talked and shared his intel with something as  _fascinating as the rain, love._

 

That was one of his dorkier moments, just a small and brief glimpse to that hidden side of him she was afraid she wanted to get to know when she realized it on the weaker nights when the mask was completely off and there was no denying how drawn to him she was. 

 

_I'm screwed that's what I am_ if she kept allowing him into her private thoughts like this, because then it would inevitably lead to allowing him into her heart and why not spare both of them the trouble with that.

 

Because that's what Emma Swan did, this 'Hero' or  _The Savior_ as they named her many times over the newspaper and social media and international television, ran away at the first sign that whatever was still beating in there by some miracle could possibly flutter and swell and jump with annoying butterflies with the hope that his stupid, parting words could be true:  _If it can be broken, it means it still works._

 

Could it? 

 

At times she really questioned if holding the cards to everything was truly her safest bet when it seemed like that hook had just come without a word of warning and swept one of the precious cards from her stack. Or how long could her walls keep protecting her before she realized how well they'd gotten at defending her from even the good and beautiful things.

 

The sudden harsh wind that raised goosebumps of anticipated bad weather on the nape of her neck that had gotten exposed when she'd switched all her loose hair onto one side could almost be perceived as a biting reminder of earlier childhood experiences -They came back in a flash as if it hadn't been ten years ago when her foster parents freaked out about her magic and in less than a second, whatever hope of a family she had there was gone for being too different in their eyes; It was hard to forget how they'd turned their children away from her, the horror in their gazes as they stared at her in complete shock, the yelling that this isn't what they'd asked for, what they wanted, and then her own nightmarish display when she'd run out of the house and accidentally caused all the windows of the cars parked in the neighborhood to shatter around her.

 

Sometimes -if she was feeling particularly down and memory lane just became unavoidable when her head hit the pillow- Emma could still feel the way the sharp pieces of glass had grazed along her tender arms and face as if it'd just happened a moment ago and she was back to being the girl with no control, and sometimes the cuts and the stinging red would appear so visible in her dreams that she would wake up in a panic only to find that her skin was smooth and healed in the dark, the panting subsiding enough for her to remember she wasn't that frightened teenage girl anymore.

 

Could she even blame them for fearing her?

 

Maybe not.

 

Maybe the whispered taunts held some sort of fact when all she'd let herself hear was the world's opinion. The villains probably just knew how to recognize a great potential for darkness like her, and they knew how to look at her for the mon-

 

"We truly must stop meeting like this, love." a husky and heavily accented British voice suddenly whispered in her ear and Emma's body - _traitor_ \- shivered involuntarily at the warmth breath expelled there, unable to halt her thoughts from falling into the fantasies of where  _else_ he could be expelling that warm, warm breath on. "One could almost mistake this for an intended rendezvous if you're not careful, darling, and you certainly wouldn't want that sigh giving away those utmost deepest desires, now would you?"

 

Emma grit her teeth.  _Shit._ Had she really sighed?

 

Dammit, she had. And this time there was no lightning and thunder to mask the sound. The bastard didn't let anything slip, and this habit he'd made of sneaking up on her like this...well that was both hated and loved (or maybe she just hated that she loved it) but right now Emma just growled in response (not the wisest decision because she was sure as hell that encouraged him), frustated with herself and quickly turning to push him away once she was in command of her senses again -not encircled by the distracting scent of him that always made her think of  _ocean, beaches, a home by the seaside._

 

Figures, given his superpower and all that.

 

"No," Emma left her sitting position on the edge and stood up to face him fully, denial coursing hotly through her veins when she met that teasing yet challenging gaze that dared her to lie, but mostly an anger she'd thought she'd extinguished now rose up to remind her it had never died. "I was already here, you're the one trespassing into my alone time."

 

Mischief glinted in those bright blues -somehow more prominent in the grey hue of what was supposed to be a cheerful sky, but at this point Emma just guessed the coming storm was his particular doing rather than the natural causes of mother nature- and he smirked. "The weight of the world on your shoulders has finally taken its toll, aye?"

 

"Something like that." she murmured quietly and just like that she was deflated again, fighting on internal battle on whether or not she wanted to be haunted by the two strangers who'd left her abandoned on the side of the road or just totally turn herself off for the rest of the day and leave before anything that could be too revealing passed her lips. She glanced up at the sky again and waved her hand pointedly, "I assume that's your doing?"

 

"On the contrary." he grinned and shook his head. Emma raised an eyebrow, suspicious and disbelieving. "It would appear that Poseidon is feeling quite enraged at the moment, hence the flat clouds and disturbingly thick moisture in the air, but," he leaned toward and winked. "I'm touched you thought of me, love. Here I was thinking I was nothing more to you than a simple nuisance, but it seems you've proven me wrong. YOU DO miss me." his eyes twinkled with amusement and she rolled her eyes; Emma wasn't about to admit she had indeed been thinking about him not even two seconds before she sat down to find peace of mind.

 

"You're so full of it, you know." she said it with a bit of distaste to ensure the bite and the distance.

 

He shrugged, hand and hook clasped behind his back as he walked a slow circle around her, unfazed by her vain attempts to make him go away when deep down she wanted him to stay. They'd been down this road before, both of them well skilled with this game they played of to trust or not to trust. Whatever the agency had fed her about the dangerous and ruthless Hook, the Killian Jones lieutenant turned pirate turned villain incapable of redemption, was not what she saw in front of her. Emma just saw...him. And all his eyes had done so far was demonstrate sincerity. "A little confidence never harmed anyone."

 

"You got some to spare."

 

"My ego begs to differ."

 

"Of course it does." she looked at him. "Why are you here?"

 

His feet stopped just a step shy from the edge. He sighed and admired the view below of ordinary people with ordinary lives and ordinary problems, unaware of him as they'd been of her when she was remembering all she could not possibly have thanks to a burden that had stolen everything. "I could ask you the same question."

 

Emma crossed her arms, stance defensive. "Then it's a good thing I already answered."

 

"Is it really so startling to believe that I just wished to vocalize about the rain once more?" he turned his head back to look at her then and it was a silent invitation to come and join him. But she stood her ground stubbornly and didn't move an inch. If she did, she'd be tempted to hold his hand again, to finally twine their fingers, and she didn't want to be tempted. It would be too much. Emma could't afford to let herself have that too much.

 

"Yes, so what do you want, Hook?" she regretted the words instantly when she saw the hurt cross his gaze and the small encouraging smile fall to a frown.

 

"Killian." he said rather fiercely and sad at the same time. "Killian, my name is Killian."

 

"I know." she responded quietly but still didn't want to add it, still refused to take away that barrier between them amongst the many others because what would come next? Taking off their masks and revealing their true identities, real faces? Taking down those coping mechanisms and admitting their true feelings? She couldn't. She wouldn't.  _I can't be wrong about you, I can't take that chance._

 

"To the rest of the world I can be Hook, the damned forsaken villain who deserves no happy ending, no bloody chance at a new beginning, no forgiveness for the countless lives I have taken and murdered in my time. But to you, I am only Killian." he closed the space, letting his dejected eyes fall closed as he rested his forehead on hers with the corners of his lips gently twitching up in a broken smile.

 

"I know." Emma whispered.

 

"So then what troubles you, sweetheart?" he says it so gentle, so kindly, so willing to listen that she melts right then and there under the knuckles that caress her cheek.

 

Emma shakes her head slightly, but she licks her lips tentatively, as if preparing them for what they're about to confide in him. She doesn't think she can do it, doesn't think she will be able to let go of her fears and all that torments her, but his touch is like the water, soothing in every way that she needs. Emma promises herself, after, she will leave. After. "There's just so much, I don't even know where to start," she laughs waterily and squeezes her eyes shut, focusing on breathing normally, focusing on his skin on her skin, this rare moment of closeness she has secretly been craving. "My parents...whoever and wherever they are, I wasn't good enough for them. They abandoned me, and all I come back to for a reason is that they were afraid of me too, they also feared who I was -who I am. A monster, Killian." she pulls away then with a shaky sigh and eyes that she is sure glisten with restrained tears.

 

"Emma..." he reaches out to her and she remembers then why he'd shared his knowledge and fascination with the rain with her two springs ago. He'd learned of her fear of thunderstorms and  _This way, my dear, you'll be able to tell when one is coming so that you may seek shelter elsewhere_ , she'd snorted  _I'm sure I'll forget everything you just said._ But she hadn't. She kept it and used it and held those signs close to heart. She'd already opened up once, now twice. There couldn't be a third.

 

The first raindrops began to fall while her teardrops didn't. 

 

"I have to go." It was delivered with a finalization in her words, and Emma knew she had to go and go through with the fragile promise that portended to crumble whatever strength she had left and instead find shelter in his arms when the first roar of the lightning struck. Killian looked on at her with longing and she couldn't pretend her eyes didn't reflect the same thing, even with the short distance of two feet apart it still felt like there was miles between them that didn't only belong to how broken she was and how hopeful he was. She sighed, the air of defeat in the atmosphere as she watched the beads of cold, wet water slide down the sides of his face and neck, dampening the unruly dark hair she wanted to slip her fingers through and fix down herself. 

 

Silently, Emma stepped forward and grasped his outstretched arm for balance. The anguish in his stare hadn't changed, only grown with the understanding that she couldn't open up her heart to what they had. The storm inside her didn't enable her happiness, and the continuing hero and villain they are after this does not allow her to lean in and press her lips to his cheek like she does. "Don't follow me." she breathes and then hastily turns to do what does best -run away from what could have been home.

 

It's as she is halfway through the start of her actual running that the first strike of lightning and boom of the thunder hits and makes her jump in surprise. But for once she stops rather than push herself to go on. She looks back, mourning what she's left behind, when she finds that she is, indeed, alone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> -Thanks for reading, hope you liked it!
> 
> -Thoughts?


End file.
